Against all odds
by Sara Nublas
Summary: In the attempt to help an old acquaintance in troubles, Kenzi puts her safety and her relationship with the Fae-family at risk. Kenzi centric, but with all main characters involved. Kenzi-Hale hints. OC characters included. Rated T to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

The story takes place sometime between season 2 and 3: Dyson has is love back, Hale is not the Ash and he's still a Detective, Bo and Lauren are a couple.

-A huge thank you to **Imorca** for beta reading and providing insightful feedback and suggestions!

-I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I am enjoying writing it. Feel free to drop a comment or a review

_The music is throbbing loud in the disco. Bodies of strangers are moving frantically at the rhythm of the drums. Skin against skin, mouth against mouth. The smell of perfumes, sweat, smoke and alcohol mixed altogether is overwhelming, yet they don't seem to care. He has always found this ritual, so popular among humans, rather barbaric and unsanitary. The sweat, the touching, the heat are an unbearable torture. Why somebody with an ounce of common sense would pay to spend a night herded like cattle in a stable? Nonetheless, he finds that when his appetite grows, this kind of place is the ideal hunting ground. The crowd offers him opportunity and protection, he can select from a wide array of types and nobody will ever remember him. The perpetual flux of people coming and going reduces the chance of bumping into the same woman twice. It happened once; he immediately recognized her as she did him, and he feared she would make a scene, but she didn't. She turned around and walked away ashamed, upset and confused. _

_Someone once asked him whether he felt uncomfortable using his gift to his own convenience. 'No,' he had answered, 'why should I? It was given to me by birth and I honor it by making the most of it.' As a matter of fact, Brian learned early on in life that being a telepath can be a great gift if you select well what to listen to, especially if you don't feel invested with some higher moral responsibility to help people and let them suck you in a spiral of guilt. The look of panic in their eyes when they realize that their most hidden fantasies, their darkest secrets and shameful thoughts are at your mercy. It's always such an adrenaline rush that temporary relieves his insatiable craving for power and control._

_He walks through the crowd, searching and scanning for his next 'company'. All these thoughts are so idle and boring: sex, money, job, midterm tests, feed the cat, pay the bills, is he going to call? Should I call? _

_He rolls his eyes in disdain. Why are people so 'ordinary'? He's about to turn around and leave, when he sees her. Her blonde curls waving at the rhythm of the music, her carefree smile lighting up her blue eyes, her mind is like a dolphin swimming in the ocean, eager to have fun and go on an adventure. There she is. He approaches her with a smirk. Ah, this is food for thought._

_**-Five years later-**_

At first Kenzi decides to ignore her phone ringing and lazily rolls on her side hugging her blanket tightly. "Shut up! It's Sunday," she mutters without opening her eyes. Once the ringing ceases she smiles to herself; Kenzi versus nasty phone: 1- 0.

The past weeks have been a living nightmare during which she managed only a few hours of sleep and had way too much alcohol. It's the same old dance; every time she swears she'll quit drinking, until the night after when Hale presents her with a bottle and his mischievous smile, and she magically forgets her vow. Every time he mocks her about her drinking habit, she tries to persuade him that it's not a question of willpower; heavy drinking is embedded in her genealogy. Unfortunately, that doesn't apply as well to her low resilience to hangover.

The quiet is broken again, this time by some giggles and whispers from the bedroom upstairs. Kenzi chastises herself when, for a moment, she thinks of how things could evolve between Hale and her. They've spent a lot of time together lately, and sometime it feels like they are dancing with the thought of giving it a try. Other times, instead, she gets the opposite vibe and thinks that after all he doesn't see her as anything more than a friend. Like few nights before when they were sitting at the Dal, eyeing each other flirtatiously and she was gearing up for her Kenzi moves. Then the longest eyelashes she's ever seen, came by introducing herself as Dalila, _an old friend, _and stole her act. The siren spent sometime going down the memory lane with _his old friend,_ sitting there with a dazed smile and his stupid hat. Kenzi kept sipping her vodka and staring at her favorite boots, pretending not to care that Hale was flirting with a totally hot stranger. She felt like a pole dancer who starts her sexy dance and realizes that there's a bunch of shocked nuns instead of a party of horny fellows sitting at the tables, and staring at her bazooms. Awkward Moment.

After all snarling things up may not be a good idea. Sure, there's the great chemistry between Hale and her, and those perfectly chiseled abdominals of his that she would very much enjoy becoming friend with; but also a shipload of complications. He's Fae, she's human. His family is filthy rich, while she lived in the sewers. He's a detective and he usually arrests and not dates someone like her…

Kenzi kicks these thoughts away; _thou shalt not think in the morning_. She buries herself under the covers, motivated in not letting her phone, her bound-to-fail resolutions about alcohol, her sentimental doubts and Bo's sexual life deprive her of her weekend sleep. She pulls the blanket over her head trying to lull herself back into sleep, but that doesn't muffle the giggling and chuckling that soon escalate into frantic sighs.

Kenzi crumples her blanket in a ball and throws it away. She rolls her eyes and sits up, silently begging the room to stop whirling around.

"I swear I won't ever touch a drop of alcohol again," she groans, dragging the words.

Given the persisting squeaking sound of the bed springs, Kenzi deduces that last night's dinner with Lauren went well and she rekindled things with Bo, again.

She can't help a smile at the realization. She had her initial reservations about Lauren, and for a while she kept her hopes up for team Dyson, but she can't deny the deep and sincere connection between her succubus friend and Lauren, and she knows that both of them deserve some real happiness.

Bo's romantic rollercoaster haven't been helpful for the business; over the past month Kenzi procured five cases that could have brought in some good money, and heartbroken Bo refused any compensation. Except in one case, when Kenzi took the client's money behind her friend's back.

So, between supporting a depressed Bo, bar tending at the Dal as a consequence of a lost bet against Trick, and trying to work some cases solo when they didn't involve crazy trolls or a fae plague, Kenzi has forgotten what a full night of sleep means.

She takes a deep breath and tries stabilizing her dizziness.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Relax.

The room eventually slows down and Kenzi hints a proud smile, when her phone starts ringing. Again.

"Damn it!" she hisses exasperated. Eventually she gets up from the couch, cursing her phone, the thin walls of the apartment, the booze and Saturday mornings.

While fixing herself some coffee she looks around: the house is a mess, as usual. Beside the couch there's a heap of clean laundry that has been waiting to be folded for four days. The small table in front of the television is covered with empty bottles of vodka, whiskey, wine, ginja, cherries in syrup, coke, popcorn, a carton of chocolate-chip ice cream that melted all over, and pizza boxes. The mayhem extends to the kitchen counter where various containers of Chinese food and half eaten tacos are resting at the mercy of the elements. Maybe a spring roll will merge with the nachos and create a mutant that would hunt her in her sleep. It would sneak up on her and try to stab her with chopsticks. But gorgeous Kenzi would kick its ass with a kung fu panda move and knock it out with a wok. Jeez, being a super warrior is exhausting, she thinks while last night's booze dances a tango in her stomach. Whoa! Coffee therapy needed against the rise of the mutant tacos!

Sweet, strong, hot, divine distilled, comforting coffee.

"Oh my god! This house looks like a dumpster!" Bo's imperative voice takes Kenzi by surprise.

"I know," she yawns turning to face the cheerful Succubus.

"Wow, Kenzi, what happened to you? Go back to sleep. You're a wreck."

"That was the plan, until you, Bowesome lady, and your friend decided to give a little concert," she winks with a smirk.

"I know," Bo gives her a mangling hug. "Lauren stayed over for dessert."

The succubus beams while pouring two cups of coffee and runs back upstairs. "Ah, your phone is ringing!" she calls before disappearing for the second round.

Kenzi looks around dejectedly. Sometimes Bo forgets that normal people don't have a sex-rechargeable battery.

That nasty phone might end up winning this round after all. Eventually she checks all the messages she's got by the same caller: Alison. While listening to the voice messages, she scribbles an address on a napkin that has 'Red Dragon Restaurant' and matching silhouette printed on it. A few drops of soy sauce have blurred the print so that the dragon now looks more like a slug. It makes her smile.

**oOo**

Kenzi wavers as she places her hand on the handle of the café door. She tells herself that this is a very bad idea one last time, and finally walks in. Common sense teaches that once you manage to get some people out of your life you shouldn't be so stupid to let them in again. But Kenzi knows people are also capable of changing, and they can surprise you if you give them the chance. At least she learned so after a certain unaligned succubus has taken her in and made her feel part of a family, after a long time of flying solo in the streets.

The café is almost deserted. Only a couple of people are sitting across each other at a greasy table, leaning against the window and trying to sober up after spending the night partying hard. It is the kind of place where wasted folks go to get rid of the booze with some dark coffee and a greasy pancake. They eye Kenzi suspiciously as she passes by and immediately lose interest going back to a numb oblivion.

She finally spots her guest. She has chosen a corner table under the only non-functioning light; by-product of a lifetime spent pursuing invisibility. She's staring intently at her hands wrapped around a cup of steaming coffee. When Alison raises her gaze and greets the newcomer with a faint smile, Kenzi realizes she looks exactly the same as five years ago: the same magnetic beauty and the same intelligent look. She sits across from her and turns the cup to a solicitous waitress who promptly walks to the table with a menu in one hand and a pot of boiling coffee in the other. Her nametag says that she's Nancy; a slim, twenty- something brunette who's too tired to smile. Her chignon is half undone and her uniform, one size too big for her, dangles on her skinny body, making her resemble to a clumsy mannequin. Kenzi looks at Nancy walking back to the counter and then at the place. One row of booths runs along the side of the bar; the red leather benches are torn and lurid, and the black tables are covered with scratches and indecent messages carved by clients.

"I thought you would never come." Alison finally speaks.

"I thought you would never stop calling," Kenzi answers with a pointed look.

"You are still pissed at me. Aren't you?"

"Once I learn a lesson I don't forget it, Alison. So why don't you cut to the chase and tell me why I'm here?"

The young woman is roughly Kenzi's age. Her blonde hair tied behind her neck underlines her gaunt cheekbones and the dark shades around her blue eyes. Despite the extreme thinness and her apparent sleep deprivation, she's still very attractive. She wears a pair of jeans, military boots and a worn out grey hoodie; for a while she stares at the rough surface of the table, nervously playing with an empty sugar bag and not uttering a word.

"I suppose you expect my apologies," she finally speaks.

"From you I expect only the worst. And I am not sure I should believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

_Expect always the worst from people, so they cannot disappoint you._ These are the exact words Alison told Kenzi when they met for the first time. Only, back then, she didn't know how seriously she had to take that advice. Alison had been in the streets much longer than Kenzi. She took her under her wing and taught her pretty much all she had to know. Not that Kenzi was unable to take care of herself; but Alison knew a lot of tricks and for a while she behaved like a loyal friend. For a moment Kenzi, while reminiscing the old times, juggles with the idea that Alison might not be pure evil.

Alison smiles bitterly, "it's good to see you learned the lesson."

"I had a great teacher."

Alison takes a deep breath, and shifts uncomfortably on her seat.

"Do you remember when we had that fight with that punk, what was his name? Purple hair, nose ring, Celtic tattoo, he was bragging all the time about being Jennifer Lopez secret lover…"

"Billy Blum." Kenzi recalls, unable to keep from smiling at the memory.

"He said that we could not sleep in our corner anymore because it was his territory and we had to pay the rent," Allison continues.

"_In cash or in faors_," Kenzi completes the memory arching her nose in disgust.

They end up laughing, "God, it felt so good to steal all his clothes and dump them in the garbage," Alison finally manages to catch her breath.

"I still remember him crying and cursing while he chased us down the streets," Kenzi rubs her eyes in the attempt to wash away the image of a plump, angry boy running after them in military boots and bright pink underwear, and nothing else, "the pimps went on calling him _lover boy_ for months."

They sober up in silence. The memory of their past complicity makes them feel even more distant now. It seems a lifetime ago. It _was _a lifetime ago.

"I am not proud of what I did back then. I cared about you as if you were my sister, but I got in trouble with the wrong people and I needed money…"

"So you ran away with all we had in the middle of the night? You left me with nothing. I woke up and all I had was my clothes and a pair of boots. Not even the money for breakfast, not a freaking note!" Kenzi waves her hands when words fail her, "you don't do this to a sister. If you had asked me I would have done anything to help you."

"You couldn't. I had to go away," Alison counters feebly. She knows how deeply she hurt Kenzi, and there is no making up for that.

"I really need your help now. I don't have the right to ask, I know. But I don't have anybody else to turn to," she stares at Kenzi with a crippled smile and tears in her eyes.

There. This is how the lion pretends to be a lamb and, once your guard is down, -bang!- strikes to the jugular.

Kenzi takes a deep breath, torn by mixed feelings. She tries to imagine what Bo would do in her place. A part of her cannot get over the fact that Alison has betrayed her trust once and, as far as she knows, she might be in for a second round. But there is a dim, insistent voice urging her to show a bit of compassion and not to hold on to the past.

"Listen, you jammed my phone with messages saying you need a P.I. , so I'll give you ten minutes to explain what's the deal. If I don't like it, I'm going to leave and you'll never call me again. Understood?" A part of Kenzi feels really proud for giving her undeserving former friend a second chance, whereas another one is already sniffing problems.

"Fair enough," Alison drops the torn sugar bag and stares at her hands for a long instant, "Five years ago, soon after I… left, I met a guy at a party. Handsome, carefree, a bit rough, but I didn't mind back then. I was stupid and shallow, and thought I was always the smartest one. We had fun for a while and then he disappeared. Few weeks later I found out that I was pregnant. I kept the child, never looked for him, never wanted anything from him, until a month ago when he magically appeared. He was furious. He said that I didn't have the right to make this decision by myself, that_ keeping the kid was a mistake_ and I could never be a good mother to him because he's special and I don't know how to raise him right."

"Sounds like a douchebag," Kenzi comments while Alison hands her a picture of herself hugging a blonde kid with a big smile who looks roughly four years old.

"You bet. And his family is even worse. Few days after, his mother showed up, and offered me half a million to give up custody of Mike."

Kenzi widens her eyes and looks at Alison, unable to voice the question.

"No, I didn't take it. I told her to stay away from me and my kid."

"What did they say when you refused?"

"Nothing. People like them don't talk or ask. They take what they want and that's it," Alison rubs her hands on her face in exhaustion.

"What do you mean?"

"One day I went to pick Mike up at the kindergarden and the teacher told me that his grannies had already taken him home. I called his father hundreds of times, but he never answered."

"Did you report the kidnapping to the police?"

"Yes. I met with two officers. They seemed alright. They told me they were going to do everything possible and to contact them if Mike's grandparents got in touch with me."

Kenzi is lost, "Well, if the police are handling the case, how do you think I can help?"

"For once, I don't trust the police. And I had the feeling those detectives were keeping something from me. They were exchanging continuously looks and measuring their words."

"Maybe they were just trying to be kind. Your kid had just been kidnapped, you were in shock…" Kenzi offers.

"Or my ex is loaded and could buy them off easily," Alison opposes desperately. "Please." She whimpers before her voice cracks.

Kenzi feels suddenly guilty for holding her grudge against Alison. She feels that their fallout is a childish episode compared to what Alison is going through now, and finally caves in, "I can try to see if I can dig up some info, ok?"

As she says the words, she sees a trace of hope lighting up Alison's face.

"Give me the name of this family of douchebags and the number of the detectives working the case. I have a friend at the police and maybe he can run some checks for me. In the meantime, lay low, try to get some sleep and let me know if they get in touch with you."

Alison rubs a tear rolling down her cheek sobbing her thanks, while Kenzi gives her a reassuring look and an uncomfortable feeling sneaks up on her. It's just a hunch, but she can't get rid of this stomachache she gets every time she realizes she jumped in a hole.

**-**_**I know it might be a very slow beginning or not make any sense at all. But bear with me, I promise in the next chapter the story will start moving** _


	2. Chapter 2

_A big thank you for reading, reviewing and following the first chapter._

_A huge thank you to **Imorca**, who is proving such an amazing and inspiring beta to work with. So much fun :)_

_I hope you all enjoy the new installment enough to leave a review. ;)_

* * *

Trick is furiously pacing back and forth in his bar. It's Sunday morning and his head is pounding. He lets out a long sigh and looks at the two detectives sitting on the couch, their exhausted faces and wrinkled clothes. Why on earth can't he have a normal and peaceful weekend for a change?

Dyson and Hale have been working all night in the attempt to dig themselves out of the rabbit hole they've been thrown in. Their gaze is nervously shifting from a raging Trick to the couple of elder light Fae that are quietly sipping coffee and occasionally casting bored looks to the furniture.

Harriet and Peter Gordons belong to one the most respected and powerful families of Fae: old money and old rules. Through the centuries the attitude of the Fae toward humans has progressively relaxed. Even the most conformist clans have realized that the two worlds need to coexist and, on a need-to-know basis, have revealed their true identity to some trusted humans. The degree to which this coexistence is tolerated varies among families, Fae kinds and clans. In many – unfortunately too many - cases, humans are still considered merely as food and occasional source of entertainment. The Gordons belong to the most traditionalist fringe of anti-human policy enforcers. Any interaction between Fae and humans that goes beyond the necessary feeding is considered an abomination and an intolerable loss of dignity.

"I really cannot see where the problem lies," Harriet finally declares, annoyed with the tense silence in the room. "We just claimed what is rightfully ours. We didn't kill anybody, for crying out loud."

Trick skids to a halt, "May I remind you that _what is rightfully yours_ is not a package? He's a child who's been snatched away from his mother by two complete strangers and who's probably scared to death!"

"What did you want us to do, Blood King? Leave him with that ill-bred tramp?" Peter, Harriet's husband, intervenes, "she doesn't have a clue on _who_ our grandson is, she doesn't know how to rise him properly. What will happen when he realizes he's different without the adequate supervision and guidance? Either he will be treated as a cast away or worse, he will be sent to a lab to serve as guinea pig. That harlot didn't even have the decency to contact our son to let him know he had become a father," he raises his voice with indignation, but suddenly calms as Harriet nudges him. It's unbecoming to lose temper in public.

Then she reprises, "Mike is our _grandchild. _Even though he's a half breed, he has our name, and as long as I'm alive I'm not letting him live in a hovel and go to learn some low level pop culture in those kennels called public schools."

"Ma'am, I can understand the shock of discovering that you have a grandchild, but this doesn't justify kidnapping. If the child's mother decides to go public with this, we might be looking at a serious threat for the Fae," Dyson intervenes.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Peter objects, "We have Fae in the police, in the media, we have even morticians, so that our matters can be handled with the proper care."

"We are there to act as a buffer when necessary, not to cover up your mess," Hale counters, "You cannot drop a bombshell on us and demand that we clear the damage away."

"Then make it go away. Make _her_ go away. We can pay her off and, if she doesn't shut up, silence her permanently."

"Lady Gordon, you are not suggesting that we kill an innocent woman just because your son cannot keep it in his pants, are you?" Hale challenges the couple. He immediately receives caustic looks from Dyson and Trick, but he couldn't help himself. He knows too well this kind of arrogance; he grew up in it and eventually decided to become a cop exactly for the sake of another kind of justice that regards humans and Fae as equals. Now he's asked to throw away all he's been fighting for and to handle the dirty laundry of some snob aristocrats and their sick son.

"Enough! Stop it! All of you!" Trick is furious and exhausted by this useless talking, moreover he doesn't have a clue about how to behave under such a circumstance. "This is not a dispute over a piece of land. There is the life of a child involved, a child your son is responsible for, a child he conveniently neglected for five years" Trick seals his words with a look that is enough to silence the entire room.

Harriet and Peter stiffen in their seats, but they don't dare utter a word. Not against Trick. Not against the Blood King.

Trick rubs his head, quickly surveying all the possible solutions. However this is going to end, it won't be pretty for anybody, and since the milk has been spilled, the only possible way to go is to be prepared for all possible scenarios. Wars have been waged for this kind of things and if the Morrigan or some of the extremist fringes of the Dark Fae came to know about it, they wouldn't hesitate to use it as an excuse to start a crusade against humans.

He gestures Dyson and Hale to follow him in the opposite corner of the room,

"Dyson, you take the child to Lauren. We need to be certain if Brian Gordons is his father and what's so special about him that a highly respected Fae family is ready to take such a huge risk for our entire race. Hale, I need you to find out as much as you can about the mother: who is she, where she comes from, where she lives, if she knows any other Fae or if she knows about the Fae at all. We will have to reason with her one way or another and I want to know exactly who we are dealing with."

The room has suddenly gone silent; everybody seems tranquilized by the prospect of a plan, but also scared by the possible consequences.

The Gordons exchange anxious looks; for the first time they seem to realize that they might have triggered a very dangerous process and that possibly something well beyond the honor of their family might be at stake.

Before Hale and Dyson leave to their respective tasks, Trick gives them one last order, "It could be of help to involve Bo. She won't like it given her soft spot for humans, but she knows well the drawbacks of discovering who you are without the proper guidance." He pauses then, trying in vain to gather the right words. "Another thing: Keep Kenzi out of this. It's just going to hurt her."

Dyson and Hale exchange uncomfortable looks. Even though they understand where Trick's decision comes from, keeping their friend in the dark feels unfair and dishonest, especially after she fought with them on the front line so many times.

They then nod briefly and leave.

**oOo**

Kenzi walks back home feeling a knot to her stomach. She takes detours, walking down the streets of the city she knows inside out. She needs to talk to Bo pronto, and come up with a plan.

A chilly breeze sets off and she dives her hands in her pockets, trying to ignore how cold and tired she is. Her freezing hand touches the corner of the tiny rectangular card Alison handed to her before, when she asked the contact of the detective in charge of her case, Hale Santiago.

Alison is not green; upset or not, she can spot a lie from a mile away, and there is only one possible reason why Hale - and probably Dyson with him - would stall an investigation. The father of the kid is not only an ass, he's Fae. If this kid is half human and half Fae, Alison is facing a shitstorm of epic proportions and possibly she's in danger.

Damn it! Of all the possible cases she could get! An unfaithful husband? A thief of garden dwarves? A neighbour peeing on a client's doormat? She got a human-fae fricking hybrid! This is bad. This is very, very bad. At least the grand-faerents are Light Fae. If the Morrigan got her hands on this story she would go nuclear. Not that Kenzi is less afraid of the Light, but maybe with Dyson, Hale and Trick mediating the situation she won't end up on a silver platter with an apple in her mouth and served as antipasti at some fancy Fae buffet. Or worse, thrown in a hole as pet for a throll. Will the Fae let her have one last meal before sentencing her to a brutal death? She's pretty sure it wouldn't be pleasant to die on an empty stomach and she's suddenly craving a cheeseburger. She regrets not taking a pancake back at the café. After all Nancy wasn't that bad, and all she has waiting for her back at home is the spring roll zombie apocalypse.

By the time she's at the apartment door, the drizzle has turned into a storm and Kenzi is wet through. She almost crashes against Lauren who is leaving the apartment together with Dyson.

"Hey Doc, hold on! I have a question for you, it's muay importante," she calls Lauren back.

"Yes, umbrellas were invented to shield from the sun, but they can be quite effective also in case of rain," Lauren pokes back at Kenzi with a joking smile.

Kenzi is left there, wondering if Lauren will ever manage to make a funny joke. "Thank you for your help Doctor Smart," she groans rolling her eyes and walking toward the door.

"Hey, Bobo! I hope that was not the result of a threesome gone bad, because I need your full attention. No love drama today." She greets her succubus roommate while coming in, and finds Bo and Hale whispering intently. As they become aware of her presence they immediately stop and greet her with a forced smile.

"Hey, did I miss the invitation for a brunch or what?" she asks surprised.

"Kenzi, what happened to you?" Bo voices her concern first, "Don't tell me you watched Flashdance again."

"What can I say, somebody gotta work, Bobo," she deflects the bantering, curious of what her friends are hiding from her, "So what's up?"

"Well, we were in the neighborhood and we dropped by for a cup of coffee," Hale flashes his best smile.

Kenzi looks at her friends with a hint of pity, they might have super-powers but they're pulling the worst con she's ever seen.

"How come the Doc and Dyson didn't stay for the party?"

"Lauren had some experiment to monitor, something with bacterial cells thingies, and Dyson was headed in the same direction so he gave her a lift." Bo attempts a smile while swallowing her uneasiness. She hates lying to Kenzi, especially because her friend has always been able to call her bluff. Once this thing is over, Bo is going to have a serious chat with Trick about renegotiating the terms of her collaboration with the Light.

"So, where did you go? I got up for a second round of coffee and you were gone. It almost got me worried that on a Saturday morning you got up earlier than me," Bo feels so awkward and hypocrite.

Kenzi gets rid of her wet jacket and grabs a cup of coffee. Another. Useless to keep the count of how many she had already. It's one of those days. Plus she's convinced that all of that stuff about coffee being unhealthy is just some crap made up by new age hippies freaks who are trying to convince you to drink green tea and walk around barefoot in a white toga.

"I had an appointment with a client actually," she gets the attention of Bo, who looks relieved of being provided with a distraction from her terrible acting. "She claims that her four year old son was kidnapped by a family of crazy ass Fae."

Bo's jaw drops and Hale shifts uncomfortably, his eyes getting just a bit wider.

Silence.

"I told her we are not taking the case," Kenzi continues.

Hale starts breathing again, while Bo frowns pretending to be disappointed, "How so?"

"Well, it would be rude to interfere with the fine police work that Hale and Dyson are already putting in. I told her not to worry because our wonder boys will solve the case before dinner."

The succubus and the siren exchange a defeated look, "Damn'it!" Hale hisses through his teeth.

"I knew it! Succubusted!" Kenzi shouts in glory. "Why do you even try to con a con? And why did you lie to me?"

Bo gives one of her looks to Hale, and the two waver a bit, sorting through a silent rock, paper, scissors game who's going to deliver the news.

"Technically we were not lying," Hale weighs his words. "We were withholding some sensitive information," he clarifies.

"What do you mean _withholding_? How can we help you and Dyson if you don't share with us what you have so far?"

"We were not withholding from Bo. Only you." Hale finally lays down the cards.

"It might be better if you sit this one out, Kenzi," Bo forces the words out of her mouth. She can't believe she's cornering her friend.

"What? Why?" Kenzi objects in disbelief.

"Because these people are crazy extremists and they don't welcome humans in their lives," Hale explains. "It would be easier for us to get them cooperate if you were not there. Plus it might be unsafe for you."

"Since when do you worry about the cooperation of two criminals?" Kenzi cannot believe what she's hearing, but most of all she can't believe Alison was right about Hale and Dyson.

"They are a very influential family in the Fae community, and the matter of human-fae hybrid is highly controversial," Hale justifies, trying to calm Kenzi's growing fury.

"Translated: they are rich and Fae, so they can get away with anything."

"Kenzi…." Bo tries, but the words fail her.

Kenzi takes a moment to let the disappointment sink in. It sucks, big time.

"Fine," she finally resolves, "you'll take care of your people and I'll do the same for my peeps."

"Kenzi, I am serious. Let us take care of this. You don't know what these people are capable of!" Hale has abandoned his patient tone for a more commanding one.

"Yeah? Well I say that these people, _your people_, have underrated what a pissed off mother and a former street rat can do, and something tells me they're gonna have a taste of it!" she bites back.

Bo tries her last attempt to dissuade her friend from going on a suicide mission, "Kenzi, I promise I won't let anybody hurt that kid and I will do everything I can to bring him back to his mother. But I need you to hold off."

Kenzi stares at her friend with wide eyes, speechless. Finally, her head shaking in protest, refusal and denial, she leaves the apartment without a word.

Kenzi has known that the time would come when she would go from sidekick to deadweight. She knows that her presence in the Fae world is not welcome and many people see her as an outsider. No surprise, she's used to that and she doesn't need a squad of cheerleaders backing her up. All she cares about is Bo's opinion, and for the first time her friend has ditched her.

Now she's shit-sandwiched between her former friend Alison, who's trying to gain her trust back, and her friend Bo, who has just benched her. And it's raining. Awesome freaking weekend.

All of a sudden the raindrops stop falling on her head, she turns and finds Hale behind her, holding an umbrella.

"You know that if you want to arrest me you need a probable cause," she warns him on the defensive.

"Do I need to find one?" he responds in kind, "If locking you up in a cell is the only way to keep you out of trouble, trust me I can get very creative."

He softens his gaze then, and he shares a long silent look with Kenzi.

It's so damn hard to keep being upset with her when she has that pout and her blue eyes are staring at him. She's flighty, scrappy and fierce. Practically irresistible. Hale takes a deep breath, trying not to give in to what he's been dreaming about since the moment he met her. There are so many things he would like to tell her. He doesn't know where to begin: that an order of the Blood King is not negotiable. That he deeply cares about her, in a way a Fae shouldn't care about a human unless he's looking for troubles. That maybe this case is a lesson for both of them: he should stop flirting with her, and she should find a decent human guy to date. That he was a jerk the other night and he doesn't care a bit about Delila; only about her.

So many things to say and such a bad timing. Kenzi gives him that look, hurt, pissed and honest at the same time that always manages to make him feel powerless. That look he's been longing for a life time. God, is he in trouble with this woman.

"Kenzi, I don't doubt your good intentions. But how well do you know this woman? Before getting in trouble, are you sure that her intentions are pure and she told you the truth?"

Kenzi hates how slick Hale can be sometime and how he manages to get under her skin. With him she always realizes she's been conned one minute too late. "Wow. Do they give you crash courses on how to be a real douchebag or does it come included with the Fae package?"

"Come on lil' mama, don't be so bitter. It's a Fae matter and we handle it with Fae rules."

"Meaning that you turn the victim into a suspect to cover your people's ass?" she doesn't leave him the time to argue, "So much for all your speeches on being a cop and making a difference," she accuses mockingly.

"That's not true, Kenzi," he counters with resent.

"I guess you're proving worthy to be the heir of the clan Zamora," she hisses in response.

"Kenzi, you are wrong!" Hale reiterates while she walks away.

"And you're a dick!" she shouts back disappearing into the rain.


	3. Chapter 3

A huge thanks to whomever read and especially thank you for reviews and comments. Sorry if I don't always manage to reply to all of them, but be assured they mean a lot to me.

I am blessed with a great beta **Imorca**, who helps me so much in improving my English and the flow of the story.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Am I sick?" the kid asks with his big blue eyes pointed at the blonde doctor.

"No Mike, you are not sick," Lauren reassures him.

"Then why am I here? My mom says that we go to the doctor when we are sick."

"Your mom is right," the doctor smiles, "but I am a different kind of doctor. I am here to find out if you are special."

"You mean special like Superman?" Mike is suddenly excited.

"Exactly! Like Superman. Now, I'm going to take a sample of your blood," she warns him showing a glass vial, "but I promise, you won't feel a thing, and then we are going to have a slice of cake and hot chocolate."

Mike looks at her with suspicious eyes and swallows silently, monitoring with curiosity each move the doctor makes.

Dyson is waiting in a corner, out of the doctor's way. He doesn't need a blood sample. He knows already the child is Fae. He can smell it.

He can't help noticing how weirdly calm Mike is. He has been taken from his home, he hasn't seen his mom in days, and instead of being afraid he's asking questions about lab materials and super-heroes. An uncomfortable idea surfaces in his mind, but he washes it away immediately; a mother could never…

Lauren interrupts his train of thought approaching him with a baffled look. "I still have to run the paternity test and a more complete panel, but the preliminary exams suggest he's full Fae. I want to conduct further tests, but from what I see Mike might be the first half-breed who shows fae abilities," she's doing such an effort not to jump through the room in excitement that her hands are shaking.

Lauren ponders the situation for a moment then she widens her eyes in excitement, "I've never worked on the DNA of half-breeds! I mean, given the phenotypic and genotypic characteristics of the Fae, it has been inferred that in half-breeds Fae genes behaves as recessive and human ones as dominant, so a half human half Fae individual would look by all means human and wouldn't have any power. But no one has ever studied accurately the genetic structure of a half-breed with known genealogy! It might be a mutation, or an evolutionary step as in Fae DNA shifting from recessive to dominant. Or it could be a particularly epistatic interaction, or some kind of environmental factor triggering an epigenetic shift…"

While Lauren is giving a lecture in advanced genetics, Dyson stares silently at Mike, whose eyes are darting with curiosity from one medical machine to the other.

"What about his grandparents?" Lauren continues on her scientific enquiry.

"She's a telepath, too, and he's a shifter."

Lauren arches her brow, "Another wolf?"

"Hawk."

"What about his maternal grandparents?"

"We are still researching Alison."

"She could be half Fae, that would be a long shot, but some genes hop a generation. Anyway I need to know; otherwise …" she pauses, an epiphany finally dawning on her, "You knew he was Fae since the beginning."

"I could smell something about him, but I wasn't 100% sure. Will he have Fae powers?"

"I told you, I cannot tell you until I get a more accurate panel."

Dyson nods, serious. "It's going to be a mess."

"It could definitely lead to a breakthrough in the way Fae genetics is interpreted," Lauren agrees pensively.

Dyson's line of thought is more oriented toward the repercussion this could have on the child's life, but he realizes Lauren has a point. This could be a game changer for all the Fae.

The Doctor is smart, beautiful and at times even funny. It's not that hard to understand why Bo loves her so much, he thinks while a pang of pain makes the abyss in his chest a bit deeper.

"How did it go with Kenzi?" Lauren says, distracting him from his thoughts.

"Not well. Apparently, Mike's mother is an old acquaintance and turned to her for help."

"That's some coincidence," Lauren wonders offhandedly just before going back to attend the child.

"Exactly," Dyson mumbles while he can't shake a bad feeling, "what are the odds…"

He checks his messages and calls Hale to get an update on the investigation.

"Alison looks clean, my friend" the siren sighs. "So far I haven't found anything out of the ordinary, and nothing links her to the Fae world, aside from Brian and Mike. She was orphaned as a child when both her parents died in a car accident and after that she's been in and out of foster homes until she turned 18. She pays her bills on time, she has a car, two jobs which for a single mom is not out of the ordinary. She has some old criminal records, but given the fact that she was running with the same crew as Kenzi this doesn't surprise me." He pauses for a minute.

Dyson looks at the phone monitor to check whether the communication was interrupted, "Hello?"

"Sorry. Yeah, nothing seems suspicious, but I'll keep looking."

"You know that there is a faster and more efficient way to dig deep into Alison's background, don't you? It would involve talking to a spicy brunette you happen to be very fond of," Dyson pushes, sensing what's bugging his friend.

"That brunette hasn't picked up her phone once since our last conversation, and I think right now I am the last person she wants to talk to. Especially if this means dishing out dirt about her friend," Hale answers despondently.

"You're worried about her."

"Worried? Let's say that I feel like a douchebag. I lied to her face and I am defending the kind of people I loathe most. And, knowing Kenzi, she won't stop until she gets to the bottom of it - which means trouble. Dyson, I can't pin it exactly, but there's something off in this whole story."

Dyson listens to his friend feigning ignorance about what is evident to both of them. Hale cares about Kenzi in a way a Fae should never care for a human. So far, he's been good at keeping his feelings bottled up and maybe he can keep up with the charade for a while longer, but it's unlikely. Dyson has been around long enough to know that these stories don't end with a happily ever after. Love stories between humans and fae are doomed, either because the fae elders intervene or because time does. Dyson has often wondered what is worse: whether for a Fae to watch the love of his life fading or for a human to grow old while her beloved one is still young and strong.

"Hey, I agree with you, but we'll get to the bottom of this, and Kenzi will come around," Dyson says, trying to seem more optimistic than he actually is about this case. He turns to see Lauren gesturing at him.

"Sure," Hale caves in with an unconvinced tone just before hanging up.

**oOo**

Kenzi shivers in her wet jacket while she walks past the gate of a fancy villa in the richer area of the city. She's so going to catch a cold. She's soaked like a stray dog, definitely starving like a stray dog –a wet stray dog that has just been dumped by her pack, she keeps thinking. Damn these rich people, they have enough money to buy huge villas but can't afford putting a taco cart on their block.

Fae should get the flu too. Right now she can think of a siren especially who'd deserve to spend the entire day under the rain with his stupid fancy tight ass getting all soggy.

She casts a quick glance at the security system: a piece of cake. Only problem is a camera pointed toward the intercom where the alarm panel is attached and there's no way she can get close to that gate without being seen.

The camera feeds directly to a control centre within the house, and periodically moves around to have a view of the surroundings. This means that there is some guard inside the house that monitors the camera. If so, she just needs to keep the guard busy with some distraction, while she works her magic on the alarm. By the time his eyes are back on the gate she will already be inside. She's done this plenty of times while playing video games: super-kenzi breaking into robot hookers headquarters.

Then the plan is simple: find Mike, grab a chicken sandwich from the kitchen and sneak out of the window, and then back to Alison.

Miss Kenzi is ready for some serious badass time.

Except for the part when Trick and the others find out. Shit.

Is entering the house of two kidnappers to kidnap the kidnapped considered second degree kidnapping or does it get even when you give the kidnapped back to his mom? If that's the case, then she doesn't have to worry much, aside from breaking an entry, damaging private properties and boycotting the Fae justice system.

Her stepfather used to whistle all the time that song that goes as "I fought the law and the law won…" Not helping! How is her stepfather even related to the situation? Is she identifying with this kid, or is it sugar cravings? _Focus Kenzi. Focus! Keep your eyes on the prize! Keep your focus on the chicken sandwich!_

Given the Fae laws, she will be kidnapped by an ogre in the middle of the night, then they will burn her wigs and her shoes, shave her head and put her in an oversized orange synthetic pj's. They will throw her in a Fae prison where she will scrub the john and be some crazy Amazon's bimbo. She hates orange; it makes her feel like a traffic light. And she wants to keep her bangs, and her boots.

And she wants a sandwich, and cake, and a taco!

**oOo**

Dyson's attention goes back to Lauren. She's always wrapped in a halo of focus and wonder when she's in her lab. While so many times her conviction has faltered in her private life, making her feel lost and insecure, science is her safe haven. There's a question that directs toward a method of inquiry, which corresponds to a specific analysis and leads to results. A rigorous procedure leads to reliable results.

"Brian is definitely Mike's father, and the RAPD confirmed my initial theory." The Doctor assesses.

"The RAP what?"

"RAPD, Random amplification of polymorphic DNA," she explains, not actually clarifying anything to Dyson.

He gives her a quizzical look, inviting her to conclude in a comprehensible language.

"His DNA matches the Fae genetic structure. Mike is definitely Fae."

"Does he have Fae powers?"

"His hormonal levels are still low, which means that his powers, whatever they are, have not manifested yet. But he will definitely develop some Fae abilities. Aside from that he's healthy and well nourished."

"Any chance to know what kind of Fae will he be?"

"Uhm, the Fae taxonomy is incredibly complicated and hasn't been studied extensively, not from a genetic point of view at least. His father and his grandmother are telepath, but his grandfather is a shifter." She pushes her hair behind her ear and moves to a computer screen where at the touch of the mouse an elaborate and colorful diagram pops up. "I have been trying to reconstruct some of the known Fae genealogies in order to understand what determines the kind of Fae a child will be. And in this case everything is much more complicated by the fact that we are exploring completely new territory." She can't control the pitch of excitement in her voice, but she immediately tones it down as she notices a perplexed look on Dyson's face, "Never so far, the child of a fae and a human has possessed fae powers."

"We still don't know with certainty which Fae traits are dominant and which recessive. As you know, for example, the alleles codifying for green eyes are recessive and the ones codifying for brown eyes are dominant. Still, it's possible that parents with green and brown eyes can have a green eyed child if one of their ancestors had green eyes - ." She suddenly stops and snaps out of her trance. "You don't give a damn about this, do you?"

"No, I don't. And I think I lost you at the first pair of green eyes," Dyson responds, failing to hide his smirk of amusement.

This is nice, he thinks: the two of them getting along despite their past –and present – conflict of interest; and despite the fact that sometimes she sees him and his species like lab rats to study and write papers about.

"How do you feel about this situation?" Dyson changes suddenly topic. "Should the child be with his mother or with his Fae relatives?"

Doctor Lewis stares at Mike who is sitting at a table next door devouring his slice of cake and has two smears of chocolate around the corners of his mouth, "It's not a simple question. From a psychological standpoint I would suggest that he stays with his mom because she's the only parent he's ever known and being separated from her could cause great trauma. But at the same time the cultural legacy that comes with the Fae society is so complex that ignoring it could compromise his full understanding of his powers and sense of identity too. And… well, let me say that not everyone is as strong as Bo. Despite what she's been through she still has a solid notion of what's wrong and what's right. But someone else in her situation could have easily gone rogue."

"So you think he should stay with his Fae relatives."

"I think that in an ideal world where people were not so narrow minded and petty, the two parts, Fae and humans, could work together in order to create the best environment for the child. He's not guilty of anything and he shouldn't be deprived of any piece of his family just because they belong to different species."

"Yes. You said it Doctor: an ideal world."

In the other room Mike raises his gaze to meet Dyson's and Lauren's eyes. His face is a mess of frosting and cake crumbles. He gives them a radiant smile and goes back to his banquet.

**oOo**

As a car approaches Kenzi is distracted from musing about her future as a slave for some fae nut, and she crouches behind a tree just in time.

Is tree bark edible? Or at least chewable? If she scrapes it off at shoulder's height, it should be Fido-pee free. But faes are totally crazy, and she wouldn't put it past them to own a Giraffe as pet.

From her viewpoint she can clearly see an elder couple, for sure the parents of the asshole, and a blonde kid who looks a lot like the one she saw in the picture that Alison showed her. Dyson and Hale escort them at the gate. Backstabbers.

They talk with gramps for a few minutes and then they leave.

She waits for the car to pull away and then moves to a more sheltered point. She observes several lights go on inside the house; all she has to do now is to patiently wait until they are all off.

She's never done something like this. Pick pocketing yes, entering a house when the owner were not around yes – redistributing richness is not a crime, it's balancing the scale. Ying and Yang- but she's never entered a house while the owners were in. It's risky and scary, and it can go to shit in no time. Some friends of hers used to do this kind of stuff during the old days. The main rules: know the neighborhood, know the routine of the house, make sure you have a wingman outside. Zero out of three; that's reassuring. She swallows heavily; all of a sudden her mouth has gone dry.

She mentally scans her situation: "proklyatiye! Ya popisat' na nego" she mutters while rubbing her hands against each other to fight the cold.

_Why the hell didn't I stay in bed this morning?_ she wonders, retracing the craziness of the day she's just been through. She still can't believe that she decided to trust Alison. What is she been up to during these years, aside from mothering Mr. Psycho's child? Kenzi cringes on a pang of pain at the pit of her stomach, and it's not hunger. This is the first time she stood up against Bo and walked away; she never did that before. She might have involuntarily unleashed a shitstorm once or twice, when one of her side business happened to land badly in Fae territory, and Bo had to get her out of trouble. And often she felt like spanking Bo out of her stubbornness in doing things her own way. But never, not once, has she dissolved their partnership, even if standing by Bo's side meant getting sliced by the Garuda's zombies and sirened back to life. Now for the first time, she walked out on Bo and she had a serious fight with Hale, her friends benched her, and she's about to defy the Fae law. She feels like Thelma and Louise...but without Louise...and even if she's always loved that movie, all she can remember now is the jump off the cliff. Is she really ditching her Faemily to help somebody she used to know a lifetime ago and betrayed her? Maybe she should follow the lesson of the philosopher Ludacris '_Sometime you gotta let the past be the past_'. Or maybe it's not about helping Alison, but a poor kid who was born in a faed-up family, and reminds her a lot of her own story. Maybe she thinks that if she does something, at least this kid won't end up being a street rat. Or maybe it's about picking a side and not knowing where she belongs anymore.

A vibration in her pocket announces an incoming call. Hale, again. He called and left over ten messages since the morning – even more than Bo. Kenzi bites her lip containing a smile. She's about to break into a house in order to sneak out a child, she had a fight with her friends, she's probably about to cause a shit-storm of epic proportions on both sides of the fence, the human and the fae, and all she can do is blushing over a guy.

All Hale's messages say the same thing, _I am so sorry. The situation is not simple. We all want the same thing. Please don't do anything reckless. Call me back please_.

Kenzi has listened to all of them. Repeatedly. There's something about Hale's voice, some sort of hesitation, as if he was trying to say something but the words wouldn't come. She heard the same hesitation in her own voice many times, when she was alone with him and thought of taking a risk, of… She pushes that thought away.

Kenzi doesn't exactly know what the deal is with Hale. Sometimes she thinks they are just really good friends, despite the differences. Right now she thinks they should just be friends, after she's kicked his ass for treating her like a noob, won at least three games at pools and got free drinks for a year. She doesn't like it when he can win her over so easily with his charms. But she also feels bad for what she told him earlier, about being his father's spitting image. That was a low blow. She knows that his family is almost as messed up as hers - being a Zamora mustn't have been easier than growing up in the proximity of the Russian mob.

_Kenzi, please I am begging you. Come back to us. Come back home. I was an idiot… They are just bigots and I hate that you were caught in the middle of this. C'mon little mama, pick up the phone. I know you're there. I'm going crazy in here._

The feeling that someone's waiting for her, worrying for her, is like a cosmic coffee hug for her shivering heart. She smiles a bit, imagining Hale pacing back and forth at the Dal and taking off his hat to rub his head in frustration. That's what he does when he's running out of options.

She listens to his message another time and stares at the green button 'call'.. _Come back home_ he said. Despite her being a messy, impulsive, weak human, they want her back, with them, at _home_. _He _wants her back.

She really wants to go home too, and she's freezing.

The light in the living room goes out. Then the two bedrooms upstairs. Eventually the entire house is dark.

Kenzi carefully stands up, and hops closer to the gate. One of her feet got numb while waiting, so she advances clumsily. A wet, hungry, stray, three legged dog. It keeps getting better and better. She stares at the house. She'll keep her promise to Alison and then she'll go back to her Faemily, hoping they still want her.

One of the villas along the block is going through some kind of renovation and outside of their fenced garden there's a pile of bricks. Kenzi takes two and walks toward a BMW parked down the sidewalk not far from the Gordons' residence. The first brick hits the passenger window shattering it, the second leaves an indent on the hood. Seriously dude, you don't park this kind of car on the street. You never know what kind of crazy things people can do, she smirks as the alarm goes off.

And it's Christmas! Flashing lights, a chorus of sirens, the dogs in the neighborhood howling and barking, only Santa on a sledge is missing.

One.

Two.

Three.

The camera moves in the direction of the noise and Kenzi, carefully dodging it, walks in the opposite direction, hoodie up, toward the gate. In a moment she feels the adrenaline pumping, like back in the old days. She hasn't worked on an alarm in quite a while, but it's like riding a bicycle, you never forget. At least this is what her cousin says. Then again, he's been in and out of prison more times she can remember, so it may not be wise to rely on his experience.

It's a simple magnetic switch triggered by numeric combination. The right combination releases the magnet from the switch without triggering the alarm, whereas the wrong combination or the attempt to break in triggers the alarm. Stingy cheapskates loaded with money; and here she is, bypassing their alarm system in less than a minute. Even blindfolded she could pass it: easy peasy. The trick is deactivating the magnetic switch: she removes the keyboard panel exposing the wires, peels off the insulation coating, and places a small wire across the circuit. Et Voila'! The gate opens without a sound.

At this point between the background noise of the car alarm and of the dogs barking, and the glorious satisfaction of still being a proficient thief, she's distracted enough. All that matters is getting in and out of that house before the guards get suspicious and check the perimeter. She barely hears the steps approaching behind her and when she turns around it's too late. Something hits her head and she only has the time to feel pain at the back of her neck before it all goes dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much again for reviews and comments and as usual a huge thank you to **Imorca **for providing great suggestions and encouragement!

* * *

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Bo shouts at Trick while pacing back and forth like a caged animal. She stormed in at the Dal this morning, desperate after trying to reach Kenzi all night with no success other than clogging her voicemail.

"Bo, calm down," Trick says, trying to soothe the succubus. "You said it yourself: Kenzi was upset about this case and wanted to help her friend. Maybe she still resents being left out." He tries to minimize the situation more to contain an edgy Bo than because he's relaxed about it. He has a bad feeling that there is more to the story than what the Gordons have told him.

He takes a tray of clean beer glasses sitting on a table and hands it to Bo to carry over to the bar.; Keeping her busy seems a good temporary solution.

"By the way, when this is over and we have found Kenzi, you and I need to sit down and talk about boundaries. Just because we are related doesn't mean you can make me lie to my friends every time some crazy bigot knocks at your door," Bo lays the tray of glasses heavily on the counter. Trick thinks that the manual labor isn't such a good distraction strategy after all.

He opens his mouth, but is cut short by Bo.

"And don't tell me to calm down. Yes, it happened that Kenzi and I had some fights in the past, but she has never spent the night out without letting me know that everything was ok."

Trick raises his hand in peace and offers a conciliatory look trying to explain his point of view, but again he's interrupted.

"Any word from Kenzi?" Hale enters the bar in a rush, and Bo's look validates his concern.

"I've been calling her all night," Bo repeats again while her anguish is mounting. "I know you think I'm paranoid but I have a very bad feeling about this."

"Yep, me too," the siren agrees. "Dyson is trying to track her phone as we speak, then we should be able to pin her location." Hale is exhausted. He spent the night driving around the city, to all the places Kenzi ever mentioned and that she might have been. He checked bus stations and the airport, in case she – or one of her numerous aliases- decided to go A.W.O.L. He knows she would never flee this way, without even saying goodbye, but frankly he's running out of options. He hoped that Kenzi's rage would be mainly addressed to him and that Bo would be able to get a hold of her, but now looking at her disheartened expression he feels the lump on his stomach growing heavier and heavier. He removes his hat while he runs one hand over his head. An insidious thought is finding his way through his mind: what if the problem is not that Kenzi doesn't want to call, but that she cannot?

"Guys." Finally, Trick successfully pries his way into the conversation, "I understand your concern. And I promise that I want to find Kenzi as much as you do, but there is also something else we have to deal with…and it might help us understanding where Kenzi is."

Bo and Hale's eyes go wide with curiosity, while a spark of hope clears the exhaustion from their faces.

"If your Troll has escaped again, I'm done with it. I won't go anywhere near that thing and I definitely refuse to succuby his stinky chi," Bo objects, inflexible.

"How can this be related to Kenzi?" Trick objects baffled.

Bo tries to give an answer but wit fails her. "This'll better not to be one of your tricks...um, Trick," she finally mutters. She doesn't like to be conned into doing jobs for Trick, and he's extremely sneaky in luring her into loopholes. Problem is she generally realizes that she wants out when she's already diving in head down.

"Someone tried to break into the Gordons house, and managed it." Trick takes a a very pregnant pause, cherishing that he finally got Hale and Bo attentive and silent. "Last night someone bypassed their alarm system, distracted the security and opened the gate."

"Did they take anything or anybody?" Hale asks, afraid of the answer.

"Actually they didn't even get inside the property," Trick explains.

"What kind of thief opens a door and then leaves without entering?" Bo questions, annoyed. This case is becoming a riddle and is working a number on her patience. It's early morning, Kenzi is missing and upset, and she's damn hungry. She doesn't have time to chase invisible thieves.

She takes a deep breath managing the blue glow surfacing in her irises.

"The guards checked the entire perimeter and inside the house, and aside from the deactivated alarm there were no other signs of infraction."

"Maybe something or someone scared the intruders and they fled the scene," Hale suggests while the pieces of the puzzles start forming a picture that he doesn't like a bit. What are the odds that a particularly skilled girl he happens to know and the unsuccessful thief at the Gordons' house are the same person? And what if the thief wasn't disturbed and fled? What if she was interrupted by someone and taken away?

"It could be a prank," Bo tries all options, giving a desperate look to Hale.

"Whether it was a prank or a very singular coincidence, I thought you might want to look into it." Trick eyes the two fae with a suggestive look. "I convinced the Gordons to wait for someone to go over to take a look at their footage, before they rush into anything." Trick addresses a more explicit look to Hale.

The siren swallows the objection he had already prepared about not being the fae-sitter of the situation. If that thief was Kenzi, something might have happened to her, and he doesn't want the Gordons to take the situation under their control and go off the rails again.

"As the Blood King wishes," he hints a bow while turning on his heels.

"If something has happened to Kenzi because you seconded the lunacy of these morons, I promise I….".

"Bo," Trick raises a hand, this time he's not conciliatory. The Blood King is running out of patience and there's no room for objections. "We all care about Kenzi, and I know that both you and Hale are particularly invested in this case. But I am also responsible for the safety of the fae and I don't have the luxury to refuse a request of help just because I don't approve the ideas of the people asking. I need you both to stay focused and think carefully before acting. It's not just about Kenzi; our entire race is in a very fragile position now, we cannot risk exposure from a human. It would cause unimaginable damage and put people like Kenzi in an even worse position. So, please."

Bo has millions of things to say, but this is not the time to argue with the Blood King. She swallows her frustration and walks out of the Dal.

Once again alone, Trick lets out a deep sigh that fills the silence for a moment. Now, what's next? A fire-spitting dragon? A stampede of furies? The black plague?

**oOo**

The Gordons live in a mansion rather than a villa. It's exactly like one of those royal dwellings photographed by architectural magazines. High ceilings, majestic stairs, marble floors and crystal chandeliers. Bo used to dream about a house like this when she was a teenager. A husband, kids, a dog, holidays at the beach house every year. A normal happy life. It was a lifetime ago that she was aspiring to be a stay home mom. Actually, it was more of a lie than a life.

"I bet they have ten bathrooms, each one with a jacuzzi they never use," she mutters to Hale while peeking from the main entrance where they are waiting for Peter Gordons to join them.

She would use a jacuzzi. Rose petals, scented candles, jasmine bubble bath and Lauren. Seems like a sweet deal that she would gladly trade for a weekend spent working as mignons for a family of pompous snobs living in a castle. Bo can't help the comparison with her apartment, or better her hovel. If Kenzi were there she would tell her that _their apartment is not a hovel, it's a cozy maison with a unique style and decor_.

Kenzi, where the hell are you?

Peter Gordons joins Bo and Hale with his head of the security, a mountain of muscles named Jordan who is stuffed in a suit and briefs them about the previous night with monotone voice. Apparently someone waited until the Gordons with their grandson were in and all the lights were off, then they hit a car to make noise and distract the guards. Jordan admits with a distressed expression that he moved the camera away from the gate to check the source of the noise. During that brief time the intruders must have deactivated the alarm and once he redirected the camera on the main entrance he saw the gate ajar but nobody in sight.

He immediately alerted security and they checked every corner in and outside of the house, but they didn't find any trace of the perpetrators.

"How long where the cameras away from the gate?" Bo asks.

"A minute, two maybe," Jordan answers shifting on his feet. He doesn't dare to look Mr. Gordons in his eyes and Bo feels sorry for him. It must be hell to work for such an anal-retentive douche. All of a sudden she's happy with her hovel and her freedom.

"And they managed to by-pass your alarm in only one minute?" Bo exclaims.

"Two minutes," Jordan reinforces with feeble voice staring at his own large feet.

"Wow, either they were highly skilled professionals or your alarm sucks," she addresses Gordons defiantly and immediately receives a look from Hale.

"But no one broke in, why is that?" Hale asks deflecting the attention from the growing tension in the room.

"Something else must have distracted them. I can't think of anything else," Jordan offers apologetically as he dives those huge hands in his tight pockets.

"Do you have the footage from the hours before the breaking in?" Hale asks.

"Certainly, under specific request of the Blood King we waited for you to look at it." Jordan explains while Peter Gordons tightens his jaw. He's not used to being at the receiving end of an order.

"Then, let's take a look at them," Hale suggests.

"Yes, and maybe this time let's see if we can do some more kidnapping, or even better a public execution, to set an example," Bo keeps challenging Gordons. She knows it's not a brilliant strategy, but she doesn't like the guy, and when she's hungry it's hard to control her impulsive behavior.

Hale nudges her into silence and gives an apologetic look to the elder fae. He doesn't like to be the mediator in this situation and he's not thrilled at all to work for these people, but she's enjoying the goodcop –bad cop routine a bit too much.

"Go back to when Dyson and I left the Gordons at the gate," Hale requests.

They all scrutinize the fast motion of the tape. Bo and Hale exchange a quick look when Kenzi appears on the periphery of the screen and walks by, distractedly gazing at the gate and at the camera before getting out of sight. Fortunately, it's nothing worthy of notice for Peter and Jordan who never saw her before, but it's enough to make Hale and Bo's hair stand on end.

As the minutes pass, nothing more significant happens aside from occasional people walking their dogs or jogging.

Hale can't help thinking that at the time when Kenzi was monitoring the place, he was leaving her another message on voicemail. He wonders if she even bothered to listen to it and if she has a shred of respect left for him. Until the day before he thought it was a question of timing to find the right moment to confess his feelings for her. Now he feels like he's lost any chance to be her friend and everything else he could have been.

Then the camera moves toward east and focuses on a car whose lights are flashing. The hood is damaged and a glass has been smashed. The camera zooms in on the car and then roams around searching for suspicious movements. Then it goes back to the gate that is now ajar.

No signs of anybody.

Whoever opened that gate vanished into thin air.

"Do you have any other cameras on your property?" Hale asks. His facial expression is neutral and he keeps a calm, professional tone, but he feels like a stone is sitting on his stomach and getting heavier and heavier.

He exchanges a look with Bo and the two share the same concern. If Kenzi by-passed the alarm there is no way that she would have stopped from entering the house unless something happened to her.

"We do not have any other cameras, but our neighbors have provided their footage," Jordan offers.

They all turn around giving him with an impatient look.

Again the four of them anxiously scan the footage. The camera is pointed just a few meters west of the Gordons' gate. It missed completely the smashing of the car, but it captured clearly two figures approaching the main entrance at the time of the break in. Jordan stops the movie on a snapshot of the two strangers and zooms in on their faces.

"Do you recognize either of these people?" Bo asks Peter, whose expression has suddenly turned in a frown. The man's face has turned gray, aged 10 years in the snap of a second, as he acknowledges the undeniable.

"Of course. He is Brian, my son," he answers almost stuttering, "The woman I… I'm not sure."

"I am." Hale hisses with rage, "It's Alison."

**oOo**

The room is dark and moist and the air smells like mold. Kenzi slowly wakes up, her head is pounding and her sight blurred. Someone tied her hands behind her back with a tight rope that is cutting her skin. Her feet are tied too.

_What the fae? Shoved underground and trussed like a turkey. At least there's not a boiling pan in sight_. She tries not to panic.

She takes a deep breath and manages to sit up, fighting a retch surging at the pit of her stomach. It's a few good minutes before she gets used to the darkness and starts putting objects in focus. Few shards of light sift through the boards over her head, and the regular sound of water drops dripping from some pipe dictate the rhythm of time. It reminds her of when her dad tried to teach her to play the piano. There was a wooden thingy with a metal leg that would kick back and forth setting the pace of the music. That was before her father left. Before her stepfather. Before the awful fights with her mother.

Kenzi shakes herself out of her tour down the memory lane.

She must be in some sort of cellar or storage room. She's leaning on a wall. There are some pieces of gutted old furniture scattered around the room and a staircase going up just a few steps away from her. What is upstairs she doesn't have a clue and frankly she's not sure she wants to know. A fae-kitchen? A chamber of torture? She can hear two distinct sets of footsteps waltzing over her head, and voices whispering.

What the hell happened?

She remembers waiting outside of the Gordons' mansion, checking that there were no guards around and then working her magic on the alarm – at which by the way she still definitely rocks. And then, just when she was about to round second base somebody decided to play baseball with her skull.

But who?

A zealous neighbor? Some freaking fae version of _Desperate Housewives_ who monitor the street from behind a blind? Or maybe she missed a guard, but it's not like her…

Finally the door opens and footsteps get closer as they descend the stairs.

Turkey or not, Kenzi is not going down without a fight. She tenses her muscles, readying herself. She's wearing her favorite shoes, and whoever they are and whatever they want, they're just about to have The Boots stamped on their face. Kenzi is powering up for a ninja move when she recognizes a face and suddenly feels paralyzed. The pang of betrayal hits her stomach like a fist and she can hear her inner voice telling her she should never have entered that greasy spoon. Never give a second chance to a treacherous rat.

"Hello sleeping beauty." Alison sits on one step, her mocking smile showing how much she's enjoying the situation. "You should see your face right now. Priceless." She takes her phone out and clicks as a sudden flash momentarily blinds Kenzi. Her face materializes in an awkward, distorted grimace on Alison's display.

Alison looks at the picture, then at Kenzi, then at the picture again.

"Oh, sweety, not your best shot. And not your best day either, uh?" She looks at Kenzi, waiting for her to say something. All she gets is silence and contempt. "If it's any consolation, I didn't have a bit of fun conning you. I don't like pulling the same stunt twice on someone, and frankly you were such an easy mark that I didn't break a sweat. As we always say, no challenge no fun."

"Wait for my friends to come and find me, and we'll see then who's having fun. You lzhivaya suka!" Kenzi hisses back.

"Your friends…" Alison takes a pause to play with a charmer hanging from her neck, "do you even realize how pathetic you are? I wonder, how did you survive all these years in the first place. Is there anything you can actually do on your own without putting yourself in some deep shit and then waiting for your _friends _to come and get you out of it? Aren't you ashamed of being such a deadweight?"

"Said the bitch who cannot keep a friend because she screwed them all!"

"And yet here you are. I took everything from you five years ago and I just had to reappear, show you some tears and a soppy story to have you taking off on your own , breaking the law, making a fool of yourself and almost torpedoing a con that had been meticulously planned for a year," Alison counters in a crescendo of derision. "Now who's the one who can't keep her friends?"

"Is that child even yours?" Kenzi asks, trying to disguise how hard she's been just hit.

Alison is about to answer, but she's silenced by someone out of Kenzi's view.

"Calm down ladies, there's no need to become so emotional." A tall guy appears and sits beside Alison squeezing her shoulder. They exchange a look with no tenderness, then he turns to Kenzi and she thinks his son has gotten his eyes, but with a kind soul.

"We managed to contain the damage after all." Brian takes a moment to savor all of Kenzi's thoughts. "If it wasn't for our last minute save you would have made quite a mess out there. You're a fighter, and a survivor. Save for your habit of making impulsive decisions and having moral principles, you would be a perfect addition to our team. Instead here you are, tied up and beaten, just because you put someone else's interest ahead of yours," he says as he moves closer and gently caresses her face as she struggles to escape his touch.

"Oh, how rude of me! I know so much about you and haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Brian. And no, we're not going to eat you, silly turkey!"

He steps down the stairs and stands right before Kenzi, taking in her sight. _My God, she's beautiful and fearless. What wouldn't I do to her, if only I hadn't a job to finish._ Then he starts pacing calmly back and forth, "That trick at the gate – distracting the camera and bypassing the security - that was flawless. Fortunately Alison knew we should keep tabs on you. You were supposed to be the weak link, a reformed street rat, who plays Sherlock Holmes but never comes through. But, instead of a harmless kitten you proved to be a rather tenacious tiger and almost jeopardized everything."

He kneels down to level his gaze with Kenzi's. This time his eyes are ruthless; any trace of patience or amusement is gone, and all she can see is pure evil. His mouth twists in a grimace of loathing and disgust. "I don't like surprises." He slowly articulates each single word, while he stands up again.

Then a silence follows. It might be seconds. It might be minutes, even hours.

Kenzi is paralyzed and she sees his foot coming sideways only when it's too late and the collision with her face unavoidable. She hits the ground and all goes black again.

**oOo**

"A set up?" Trick can't believe his ears, but he can't say he's totally surprised. The Gordons' boy has always been bad news.

"Brian finds someone as ruthless as he is. Maybe they come up with the plan of the baby since the beginning, or maybe it's an accident turned into opportunity. She raises the baby and then after four years he stages the discovery with his parents who would do anything to preserve the honor of the family," Hale explains.

"But why?" Trick counters.

"Money," Dyson offers."The Gordons have admitted to offering Alison a generous amount of money to give up the child and disappear. Let's say she refuses once, twice and when they make a final offer that she cannot turn down she takes the money and she disappears with Brian. Off to the next con."

"It was under our noses since the beginning," Bo sighs. "They planned this down to the smallest detail. Kenzi was the perfect bait: connected to the fae and to Alison. That bitch knew that she's a kind soul and she would never refuse to help someone in troubles. They anticipated she would have been kept out of the investigation…," words fail her as she imagines her friend alone with these two criminals.

"But why involve her in the first place?" Hale intervenes. "Kenzi is impulsive and smart, she could send their plan to shit any moment!"

"And she's a perfect scapegoat." Trick finally has the big picture and shakes his head in dismay. "If Alison hadn't contacted anybody beside the police it could have raised suspicions. So what's the first thing a mother would do? She contacts a private investigator. Maybe she was counting on Kenzi not to go through with it, and just be a witness to her innocence."

"But then Kenzi goes batshit crazy and tries to get Mike back, so Alison and Brian have to stop her and… please tell me she's still alive…" Bo musters all her self-control to stop from sucking the chi out of all the people in the room so she can go after Brian herself.

"I still don't understand how did they do it," Dyson reflects out loud.

"Did what?" Hale asks, discouraged.

"She's human, he's fae, the child is full fae. How the hell is it possible?"

"She's not human," Lauren joins the conversation as a _deus ex machina_. "Her parents were Geraldine Andrews and Thomas Burke. She was dark fae and he was light. They died in a car accident when she was only a child."

She stops, noticing all the eyes pointed at her in a shocked expression. "I went through old fae databases all night and cross-checked with news of car accidents at the time when Alison was a child. I went on Alison's facebook page and I noticed that in some photos she wears the family pendant that was her mother's. It's pretty characteristic."

Bo notices how exhausted she is and how there is no trace of arrogance in her words. She hunted down the truth until she solved the problem. Lauren would probably be a great private investigator, added to the list of other things she excels in. This is the woman Bo loves and whom loves her back, she hints a smile feeling proud and immensely blessed for having such an amazing partner.

"It's not possible. I couldn't I smell it when Alison came to the precinct!" Dyson is upset with himself.

"She probably had Mike's smell on her. You couldn't imagine that she was fae but pretending to be human," Lauren reassures him.

"Excuse me!" Bo intervenes at the brink of a succubus meltdown, "I appreciate you all getting Dr-Why-Bother on the mysterious origins of fae life on the planet, but right now those two bastards have Kenzi! And I doubt they're discussing family lineage over a cup of tea. So if you don't mind I'd like to go and rescue my friend!"

"And how do you propose doing that?" Dyson argues, calm. "Her cell phone is either off or smashed. We have no way to track her and even if that was possible we don't know what Alison is capable of."

Hale looks at Bo with a dejected expression. "It sucks big time, but right now we are stuck and we need a plan."

Bo is not good at waiting. She never has been. If there is a problem she fixes it, either with a kiss or with a fist, whichever works best. But sitting and waiting is a death sentence to her. Bo can only imagine what Kenzi feels right now - working alone, feeling betrayed by Bo and then betrayed by Alison. It must seem like being abandoned completely. And all they can do right now is wait. The wait - cruel, ruthless, interminable wait.

**oOo**

Kenzi wakes up on her side, her head on the ground pounding like a rave.

"You are so naïve, Kenzi," Alison whispers making sure not to be heard by Brian who seems to have left the room, "always thinking about your friends. Silly girl. Those are not your friends. They belong to another race. They might let you in, sit at their table, make you feel at home for a while, but you'll never be like them. The truth has always been that you are just a source of entertainment.; One day yougo from asset to burden, and at that point you can kiss them and their friendship goodbye. That day has just arrived for you."

"And what the hell do you know about my friends?" Kenzi fights back. Each word hammers in the back of her head as if a teeny tiny Buddhist monk was playing a huge ass gong against her frontal lobe.

"Because I'm one of them! You didn't get that already? Did you think Brian's parents would make such a mess for a half fae bastard with no powers? Sweetie, either it's the bump on your head or it's not being on the street anymore, but you've become slow."

Alison pauses for a second, making sure Brian is not too close, then she resumes talking, "Do you think I chose you because of your investigative expertise? You wouldn't be solving anything if it wasn't for that succubus. We both know you are better at getting into troubles and getting out of it. You can hate me as much as you want, but deep down you know I am right, and one day you'll be grateful to me for opening your eyes before it was too late."

"Oh, sure. I am a bundle of gratitude, can't you see?" Kenzi growls back and immediately the evil little monk starts his concert again.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. You're not getting out of this alive. If it was up to me I'd let you walk, but Brian doesn't like loose ends."

"You always choose them carefully, uh?" Kenzi mocks.

"Interesting that you bring up the subject, considering your infatuation for Detective Hale. Seriously, out of all the possibilities you picked a copper?" Alison stops again as the sound of approaching steps.

"At least I didn't pick a psycho who scares the hell out of me." Kenzi is feeling hazy, and very uncomfortable about Alison knowing everything about her private and emotional life. Her most private feelings are being bared and mocked by the last person she wants to have a girl talk with. It's like somebody breaking into her closet and trying out her outfits. Hale is private territory and definitely off-limits for that harpy. Kenzi doesn't want to explain while she has feeling for the less likely match for her, she doesn't know herself. All she knows is that thinking of Hale makes her feel her like she belongs. It makes her feel special; and vulnerable. And so damn' scared.

"You think I chose any of it? It was either doing what he wanted or going to the Dark fae and telling them I didn't have the money I owed. And it was a lot of money. He's a fucking sociopath! once we have the money we'll part ways. But right now I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice! Sometimes it's a bad one, like me choosing to help you. But still a choice."

"Oh, sweetie, I did choose. I chose the money, a woman's best friend. I choose to win and you chose to lose. It's always been like this."

Kenzi looks at Alison with bitterness. She's fae, yet so alone, warped and cutthroat. Kenzi has often thought that being fae would make her feel like if she belonged more to the inner circle of her friends - more worthy of consideration, more able to help. But right now, she would never trade places with Alison. She'd rather be an outcast walking the line between two worlds, the human and the fae, rather than becoming like Alison or the Gordons: pretending to be happy and chewing on their own lies.

Finally she fights against her pounding headache, her beaten ego and her terrifying fear of not seeing her friends again. "I didn't choose to lose, Alison. I chose family."

For the first time Alison is the one lost for words. She swallows the sudden lump in her throat, impressed by this fearless fragile human who doesn't seem ever to give up the fight, then she haphazardly gets up and runs up the stairs.

As the door closes Kenzi is again left in the darkness. She doesn't know where she is and likely her friends have no way to find her, unless they have figured out Alison's con. Exhausted she leans on the wall and rests her head back. She can't help for Hale wrapping her in his strong arms, his musky scent tickling her nostrils and his soothing voice whispering that everything is going to be fine be fine. She shivers a bit, while a lone tear slides down her cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

_For one last time I have to thank **Imorca**, without whom this story wouldn't exist as it is. It's been such a nice treat to work with her and I'm immensely grateful for all the things I've learned about writing and so excited about what has still to come._**  
**

_Thanks again for all the reviews and messages here and on Twitter. And thank you for reading!_

* * *

Bo, Trick and Lauren sit up anxiously as Dyson and Hale walk back into the Dal after visiting the Gordons.

"How did it go?" Bo asks anxiously before her friends can even sit down.

"It was not easy, but they agreed to cooperate," Dyson explains, "I had the feeling that Harriet wasn't that surprised about her son's involvement."

"It wouldn't be unlikely. Being a much more skilled telepath than her son, she must have _overheard_ something at some point," Trick comments.

"Or maybe it's just maternal instinct and deep inside she knows that she raised a psychopath," Hale counters.

"Technically, he's a sociopath." Lauren can't help herself.

"Thank you for the useful clarification, doc. If you also have an idea on how to stop that _sociopath _and his girlfriend before they kill Kenzi, it would be great," Hale spits back. He looks around swallowing hard and pushing back tears of frustration. Hale knows that taking it out on his friends is not going to bring Kenzi back to him, but all he wants to know now is to scream at the top of his lungs and punch a wall. A moment of awkward silence follows, until Hale raises his hands in exasperation and leaves the room.

Trick watches him walk away and lets a long sigh out of his chest. He's been waiting for Hale to snap since this story began and he's truly surprised he has held up so long. Trick has to admit it, that young man has self-control.

This situation was a long time coming; Kenzi is one of a kind and sirens have an eye for uniqueness. Hale inherited a certain sensibility from his mother: he can see beyond the surface, where most stop. People are quick to judge Kenzi by her outfit and her attitude, and they don't bother looking deeper. If they did, they would be impressed by the scars she bears. Trick likes those two and he's really glad he doesn't have to spill blood legislating about his friends. Deep down he's following with curiosity and amusement their clumsy flirt, wondering when they will stop beating around the bush.

Dyson finds Hale pacing in the alley outside of the Dal.

"I'm sorry if I lost my cool, man," he apologizes, his hand rubbing his exhausted eyes.

"We're all tired and worried. It's ok."

"No, it's not ok," Hale snaps back. "I let her go! I could have stopped her, I should have stopped her. Instead I let her walk away."

"We'll get her back," Dyson reassures with conviction.

"She told me I'm like my father…"

"She was upset. We both know she doesn't think that."

"Maybe now she does. And she's right! If we hadn't been asked to handle this case with care, if we hadn't had to clean up the mess those two geniuses left, we could've concentrated on the investigation and maybe we would have figured out that it was all a scheme."

"You're right. We messed up once because we had partial information and we couldn't clearly judge the situation. Now, I'm asking you if you can." Dyson stares at his partner and friend.

Hale is by far the best partner Dyson ever had. He's fun, turns a blind eye when the investigation doesn't follow exactly the protocol and had his back countless times. Dyson wouldn't do any less for him, but he needs him to focus and momentarily set aside what's eating him up.

"I have dated a lot of girls. A lot." Hale finally speaks, "We see each other for a while, we have fun and then we part ways with no drama. It's been like this for a long time. Leaving has never been an issue, so much that at some point I convinced myself I was never going to find _the one_. That electricity my mother described when she told me how she fell in love with my father? I never felt it... until a fragile, impulsive, impossibly stubborn human crossed path with my fucked up siren radar. By the time I figured things out, we were already friends, and I was too scared to make a move."

"Yeah, about that, dude. You really need to speed it up, or else I'm going to lose my bet with Trick."

Dyson chuckles, as Hale looks at him wide-eyed and dumbstruck.

"Yep, for being a womanizer, you are pretty obvious," Dyson smirks.

"Hey! I ain't a wolf, but I sure am a lady's man… And I want a cut on the bets you make on me!"

"Ok, Don Juan. We'll talk about your share later. Now let's go back inside and figure a way to get your girl back."

**oOo**

"I'm a horrible person," Lauren mutters in guilt.

"You're geeky and adorable," Bo squeezes her hand lovingly.

"Yes, but given the bond between Hale and Kenzi, my comment was very untimely." Lauren stares anxiously at the main door, contemplating whether to leave Dyson and Hale have a man-to-man moment or to go out and apologize.

"What do you mean?" Bo narrows her eyes at her girlfriend, flabbergasted.

"Well… obviously Hale and Kenzi have deep feelings for each other. That's why he's taking it so hard," Lauren explains uncertain.

"Well, we all have deep feelings about Kenzi."

Trick chuckles at that one.

"Baby, I know you see Kenzi like your little sister sometimes. But she's a grown up woman and she's kind of entitled to have a relationship."

Bo's expression freezes in surprise, while an epiphany dawns on her. "Oh my god," she squints like a high school teenager. "How? When? And why didn't anyone tell me?"

Lauren is about to organize mentally an answer to that.

_Because nobody really told anyone - it was under their noses all the time._

_Because it's been a rollercoaster for everybody this year, with Nadia and the Garuda and there wasn't much extra time for gossip and glitter. _

_Because Kenzi and Hale are possibly oblivious of each other's feelings, or maybe they want to take this thing slow. Very slow, if someone asked her._

Fortunately Hale and Dyson come back ready to kick the plan into action, and Lauren is saved from turning into Doctor Phil, master in speculation and love matters.

_Phew, that was close._

Bo turns around and gives her girlfriend a tight hug, "When all this is over we are going to have a weekend, just the two of us. No phones, no fae science, no cases, no rich snobs kidnapping kids."

Lauren nods and wishes her good luck.

"So, fill me in," the succubus urges Hale and Dyson while entering their car. "What happens now?"

"Since we can't trace Kenzi's phone we assumed that it has either been destroyed or she's somewhere without signal- underground maybe," Hale begins to explain while Dyson drives. "We managed to trace its last position though, which is in an old industrial area with several abandoned buildings. Guess whose cell phone was in the same area at the same time?"

"Our friend Alison," Bo answers barely containing her rage, a blue glare surfacing in her brown eyes.

"And her boyfriend Brian. According to the tracker they are still there and they are probably keeping Kenzi close as an insurance policy in case something goes south."

Dyson jumps in, "The Gordons agreed to play along and contact Alison to make her a final offer."

"How do we know she'll accept?" the succubus interrupts.

A beep from Dyson's phone halts the conversation. He gives a faint smile to his partner and then he directs at Bo, "Because she just did. No one would decline such a ridiculous offer. Plus, Brian and Alison are smart enough to avoid complications especially now that they have a human hostage."

"If I had the leverage of a hostage I would be squeezing the hell out of those two snobs," Bo objects.

"They are causing too much fuss in the fae world. If they want to keep up with this routine, they need to leave soon before raising any red flags. A word from Trick and no one in the entire fae world will ever accept money or give help to those two."

"Uhm, that's a valid point… Remind me not to piss off grandpa. Ever." Bo rolls her eyes and finally relaxes on her seat.

"So where are we going now?" she asks again after two seconds.

"Did Trick accidentally spike your coffee with red bull?" Hale turns around from his front sit. He's nervous, but god, this succubus seems like a time bomb ready to explode.

"Harriet sent us the location of the exchange. We will stop Alison and Brian and have them tell us where Kenzi is."

"How do we know that Bonnie and Clyde won't turn it into a blood bath?"

"We don't. That's why I'm taking a siren and a succubus to the party," Dyson replies. Finally Bo seems convinced and to Hale's satisfaction she stops the interrogation.

**oOo**

There is some frantic pacing back and forth, and some discussion.

Alison and Brian are talking in low voices, but Kenzi manages to catch the jist. The old chap made a huge offer and Brian is overconfident that things are proceeding according plan, while Alison is doubtful. She's worried that Kenzi going A.W.O.L. might have raised some suspicions in her friends.

"She's just a human, and you need to calm down and be more confident with your abilities," he finally reassures her in a tone that doesn't leave room for discussion.

Kenzi can't stop thinking about that poor kid. His father was always out of the picture, his mother raised him to be a pawn, his grandparents have taken him to cover their ass and save the family name. Is there a single person who cares about Mike's well-being? Compared to this her own story seems like rainbows and unicorns.

And how could she be so stupid!? Alison ran the basic con on her, puppy eyes and a sad story and that was enough to send her ballistic. She was right yesterday, Kenzi is a magnet for troubles and Bo, Trick, Dyson and Hale are always around to fix her mess. She's the pathetic headline act of this three-ring circus. Well done, Kenzi.

A loud rumbling noise pulls Kenzi from her thoughts. "Seriously?" she hisses at her tummy that has been complaining for hours now, "I've heard you! I did my best, but so far the only option we've had was the raise of the spring rolls. So unless you'd rather be fighting 'The Walking Dead' at close quarter, you should be grateful."

Finally the door upstairs opens and Kenzi squeezes her eyes as the light temporarily blinds her. She remembers that when she was a child, her cousin used to terrorize her with the story of a girl being kept prisoner for years in a cellar. Her eyes got used to the darkness and she was as blind as a mole and she didn't know how to use a fork anymore because her kidnapper threw her food on the ground.

Ah, good old times, when she was an innocent girl and she thought that Baba Yaga was the only monster to be afraid of.

"Good morning, bestie!" Alison still seems to take a lot of pleasure from torturing Kenzi, but there's something worrying her. After five years Kenzi can still read her.

Alison is holding a donut, she stares at it with interest and takes a full bite, chewing slowly while Kenzi fights with her stomach to shut up. "Brian is obsessed with organic, whole, vegan bullshit. But I still can't give up donuts. Deep fried dough with tons of sugar and cream - it's just too good to say no. Don't you think?"

"You look worried, something's wrong with your psycho boyfriend?" Kenzi argues staring at the donut. She can't get her eyes away from that perfectly rounded form. She swears, this food was shaped by angels.

Alison sobers up, "As a matter of fact, yes. I'm trying to convince Brian not to put you into a box and throw you into the ocean."

Kenzi's eyes move abruptly from the donuts to Alison while she turns white and swallows hard, "But I have a lot of resources. He himself said that. I can open any lock, I can imitate at least seven different accents, I can speak Russian and my cousin Dom works at the docks so he can give you a boat…for your honey moon… and I can come on board and fix you cocktails. You remember my margarita, don't you? And I could put together your outfit for the ceremony. And… did I tell you I make beautiful sculpture with woods? Just give me a chainsaw and a tree, and you won't regret it. I promise!"

Alison crunches a smile, "I've always had a soft spot for you, K. Talking yourself out of any troubles. Maybe that's why I chose you. You are sort of a charmer. The ideal company for a naiad."

"A _naia_ what?"

"A naiad. That's what I am, a charmer. I fascinate people and convince them to do what I want."

Kenzi lightens up, "Oh, my god! You were totally eye-roofying me! It's not that I lost my street skills! You cheated and you faed the fuck out of me!"

"Nope, that was all your doing. I told you it wasn't even fun," Alison keeps on, serious. "You have this thing about helping people and this loyalty to friends. I still haven't figured out if you are extremely stupid or extremely brave." Allison's about to say something else when they hears footsteps approaching, and she immediately stops talking.

"If you want to help me, why not just let me go?" Kenzi whispers, thinking she's seen a glimpse of the old Alison in her eyes.

"I have powers, but there's nothing a naiad can do against a telepath. He knows my moves before I even realize them."

"Then run away, too!" Kenzi insists. "You're fae! You can do everything you want without having to pay like a regular human for it."

Alison looks at Kenzi with a sad smile, "Aw, you're so sweet and naïve. I spent half of my life not even knowing what I was. My parents died when I was a child. The only thing I have left of them is my mother's charm and her necklace. When I discovered my powers I didn't know how to use them and I got into trouble with the wrong people. That's when I had to leave you. Then I met Brian, and he was the first who taught me what I was and what I could do. I owe him my life, and I owe him this job. Once we get the money I am free, and I am sorry that you were caught in the crossfire, but I can't do much for you at this point."

"Alison! Come on," Brian voice summons her up and the conversation is over.

Kenzi tries to call her attention once again before the door closes but to no avail.

Holy crap! She can't help thinking what would've happened if Bo ended up with the wrong crew - recruited by the Morgan under the table when she was still a teenager, convinced to be a monster?

There is a lot of going back and forth in the upper floor, then a door opening and closing and in the distance what sounds like the roar of an engine. Then silence.

Kenzi waits, counting the minutes, holding her breath and trying to catch the smallest noise that might indicate someone is still in the room upstairs. Maybe only Alison went away and now Brian is listening at her thoughts from the other side of the ceiling.

Finally she decides that she's alone and slides towards a corner advancing on her ass and her feet, groping her way through the darkness. Earlier, when Alison was talking to her and some light from the upper floor was sifting in, she noticed a rusty nail at the base of the stairs. The floor is covered with dust, grease and probably rat's shit. While she tries not to think too much about the origin of what she's touching, Kenzi's fingers finally meet the rough surface and the sharp tip of the nail. She rolls it in her hands so the sharp tip points toward the rope and she starts sliding it back and forth between her sore wrists. _Oh Hale, if only I had listened to you when you told me not to trust Alison, now we would be sitting at the Dal, taking the piece out of each other._ She tries to concentrate on Hale's smile and his bantering, forgetting the rat shit, their fight, the messages she left unanswered. As she keeps working the rope with the nail she wonders if she'll ever see him again.

**oOo**

The grey sky has temporarily given in to a sunny afternoon. There are no traces of clouds at the horizon and the intense blue of the sky is reflected in many puddles in front of the bus platform.

Alison has chosen a bus station that is close enough to an escape opportunity, crowded in order to avoid scenes and where the amount of people crawling in all directions is enough that she could get lost in the crowd if her plan fell apart.

She has convinced Brian to let Kenzi live. By the time they find her – if they find her – the two of them will be gone with the money. She doesn't care much about friendship, loyalty or whatever, but murder is definitely not suited to her nature. And somehow that girl got under her skin; she doesn't know whether it is her relentless ability to dive right into troubles, or her undying loyalty to this bunch of fae she stubbornly considers her family, but her fierce determination is impressive. She's a bit envious of her. A lot of people seem to care about her well-being, especially that siren. When he looks at her he's completely mesmerized, and she's no naiad. She didn't charm him into loving her. Silly, powerless, brave human: so inept...and so lucky.

Harriet Gordons is waiting as agreed at the Terminal number 3. She's holding a black handbag and surveying her surroundings suspiciously. As she spots Alison walking toward her, she stops scrutinizing.

Suddenly the young woman feels really uncomfortable at the presence of the elder fae. It's not a common situation for Alison, who is used to have the upper hand, to feel uneasy. It must be a family thing: Harriet Gordons manages to make Alison feel as disarmed and exposed just as her son does. Even though Brian is a whole other level of twisted. She tries to evade eye contact, but Harriet's disappointed and accusatory gaze is still on her. It makes her feel dirty and cheap.

"Let it be quick," Alison briskly warns.

"You know, I don't need to look you in the eyes to read you," Harriet calmly speaks. "Yet I really wanted to meet again the woman who used her child – my grandson – in a horse trade." Harriet slowly articulates the words.

Alison raises her gaze to meet the elder fae. "The bag. Now."

The older woman does as required and hands over the payment. She stares at the young naiad while she surveys the content and walks away without a word. Harriet can live with the idea that her grandchild's mother is a monster, but she has to fight the shame and despair at the idea that she has raised a monster just as horrible as this woman.

Alison turns a corner rushing toward the car where Brian is waiting. She's still shocked after the meeting with his mother, so she doesn't immediately realize that something is wrong. She stops abruptly when she realizes that the car is empty and few meters away Brian is standing in the arms of a brunette with incredibly blue eyes. There's a strange smile on his face as he whispers something to her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

That's the succubus she heard so much about, Kenzi's owner. She takes a step back ready to turn around and run when she suddenly feels queasy and her legs give up. She just manages to catch a glimpse of the siren who has given his heart to a human.

While Hale whistles Alison down and exchanges a smile with Bo, he approaches the naiad and cuffs her.

Alison watches Brian falling to the ground as a sack of potatoes with a foolish expression on his face. This is the man she's feared.

Hale walks her toward a car where the wolf is waiting with a satisfied smile. She tries to turn to Hale one last time as he pushes her into the seat.

"Ah, ah, girl. I know what you are and I suggest you not to try your naiad's moves on me. I'm already wrestling all my self-control not to fry your brain."

"She's alive and fine," Alison says, looking away.

"Address," Dyson growls at her.

Alison gives the location where Kenzi is held captive without a fight. When Hale finally fits her in the back seat of the car she says, "I can see why you fell for her."

"Shut up. Or I'll gag you."

Hale leaves hurrying toward Dyson's car. He's too distant to hear Alison muttering to him "She loves you back."

Bo shoves Brian in the backseat, too. Jordan gets behind the weel with Harriet at his side. They received instructions from Trick to report to the Ash's compound and make sure they get a fair process. Those two would elude the human justice with their powers and would be free in a week.

Hale looks at the car driving away, thinking about what Alison told him. Is it so evident he fell for Kenzi? Is he very good at hiding it when he's with her or doesn't she see it? Maybe it's even worse, she pretends not to see it because she doesn't want to blow him out. Anyway it doesn't matter; probably Kenzi doesn't want to see his face anymore, and maybe it's better this way. Alison is right: Kenzi is amazing, and she deserves someone as amazing as her. Hale resolves to stop wondering is just useless and it feels like pouring salt on his wounds.

"Is he going to get away with it like every rich boy does?" Bo questions with doubt.

"Not this time. Those two posed a serious threat to the entire fae world. The law won't go easy on them," Dyson reassures her.

"Good," the succubus mutters, "Now let's go get Kenzi."

**oOo**

At first all is a blur. She feels wobbly, her legs are weak and her wrists hurt like hell where the rope cut into the flesh. Kenzi leans against the wall on top of the stairs and tries to get used to the light again. She keeps thinking about the _mole-girl_. She has her face, and her boots, and she stares at her with those tiny, useless eyes, arching her nose in the air, touching a donut and wondering what to do with it. Kenzi touches her face and feels relieve to find her big eyes still there and to feel that the topography of her nose is unchanged. Good, she's so tired and hungry, that she's hallucinating.

She hurries toward the door, when she skids to a stop and turns around. She grabs the still open carton box and lets out a little scream of victory when she counts four donuts in it. She gets out of the building with unsure steps and a chocolate donut covered with multicolored sprinkles between her teeth. Amazeballs.

She has no phone and no idea on where she is. The road is deserted and all around she sees a maze of abandoned storing warehouse. There's no way to tell where she is, nor to get back to civilization from here.

She tries to rationalize her situation, while the chocolate icing melts in her mouth and blends perfectly with the moist dough. Orgasmic deliciousness! How can she concentrate on a strategic plan while her taste buds are having a zumba party? How much time has she left before Alison and Brian return, if they return? Maybe their plan succeeded and they decided to run with the money and leave the useless human to starve. Do her friends even know what happened or are they still working under the leash of those snobs? She wonders if they actually keep a giraffe in the garden…. Her musing is interrupted by the sound of an approaching car. She freezes, uncertain of what to do. She stands paralyzed in the middle of the street, with her mouth full and a box of donuts - which they will have to pry from her cold dead body- in her arms. Fight or fly?

"Are those smears of chocolate on her face?" Dyson asks his friends while he slows the car.

"Kenzi!" Bo gets out first.

"Bobo! Tha kep ma on tha baiemen cha das. Oh ma gad m so hum…" Kenzi mutters incomprehensible words with a full mouth, chewing with gusto.

Bo can't help hugging her. The sight that greets Dyson and Hale when they catch up is Bo strong arming Kenzi in a hug, while she balances donuts on both hands and chews a huge piece of pastry.

It's nice to see that certain things never change, Dyson thinks, pleased with the happy ending.

"So you're not going to share any of that food. li'l mama?" Hale comes closer with a tentative smile.

Kenzi gives him one of her looks in response. "Keep your hands off my angel cake!" she warns after swallowing another bite and giving him a tired smile.

"Whoa! No sugar for my broken heart?" he jokes back as he feels traces of the old vibe between them. His usual Kenzi is back and rocking, maybe there's some hope for their friendship to be fixed.

**oOo**

Bo sits down beside Kenzi while Trick serves beer to the rest of the team. "Kenzi, I don't even know where to start. I am so sorry I didn't have your back." The words fail the succubus, whose eyes are pleading for forgiveness.

"Well, I'm sorry I went rogue behind your back and almost faed things up for that kid. I still can't believe I fell for Alison's story."

"Hey, she _naiaded_ you up. You couldn't do anything about it," Bo encourages her friend.

"Yeah, I couldn't do a thing…." Kenzi is still wrestling with so many thoughts. What Alison told her down in that basement, about her being a puppy for the fae and that one day they would let her down? What if she wasn't lying when she said that she didn't use her fae powers on her? What if this is just the beginning of a crack between Kenzi and her fae-mily? Has she really been forgiven? Will she be the next time?

"Kenzi, you see the good in people and you are ready to sacrifice yourself for them. You should be proud of it," Bo adds, as if she sees right through her friend. "I am very proud of you."

"I almost had two criminals on the loose, and that poor kid… and you guys? I said horrible things," Kenzi mumbles dejected.

"Hey, if I didn't have you, I would be alone challenging all these tight ass fae rules. You are my best friend and my partner in business and my compass. I formally forbid you to change anything about it. _Entiende_?" Bo waves her finger pretending to give an ultimatum.

Kenzi looks back at her friend, and gives her a tight hug.

"But once we get back home we need to clean that kitchen before the walking dead rise out of our take out boxes," Bo adds, returning the embrace.

"Oh, my god! Yes! No more spring rolls for at least a week!" Kenzi agrees, suddenly craving a burger.

"Ok, so now I'm going to go and see Lauren. She's been working crazy hours and I owe her an evening of relax," Bo winks at her friend, before leaving.

"Say 'hi' and 'thank you' from me," Kenzi calls. Her smile fades as she meets Hale's gaze. He's sitting at the other side of the bar and he's been working up the courage to talk to her all night.

Kenzi takes a long stare at her beer. Somehow, Alison has managed to hit the right buttons with what she said about Hale, and it made her think a lot. What if they are just too different? What if she's dreaming about a guy whose real type is Delila with spidery legs and hypnotic gaze. She takes advantage of a guy coming up to Hale and talking to him, to get off her seat and leave.

What if she needs a break from the fae? Take off for a while, see new places, meet new people, she wonders as she's about to slip through the main door of the Dal.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?"

She jumps in surprise and turns around. Hale is standing right there, looking at her intently. It's only the two of them; everyone else is in the bar drinking and partying. How the hell did he catch up with her so fast, and how does he know about her thinking to leave? Kenzi feels as if she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Hey, I know you're probably dead on your feet and all you want is to get some sleep," he hesitates, " but I just want… I just need you to tell you how sorry I am for messing things up. You're probably at the end of your rope with me, but I hope you can believe me. I never meant for you to get hurt." When it's finally out, Hale realizes how much he needed to say the words, to see her eyes and hear her voice.

"I know, I listened to your messages," Kenzi answers, "and I'm sorry if I made you worry, and I'm sorry I said those things about you and your family. I didn't mean it," she shifts on her toes.

"You did listen to them?" Hale looks surprised, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Bo, told me you were pretty terrific with Alison, when you sirened her up." Kenzi tries to lighten the conversation and get it somewhere safer.

"I had to resist the impulse to turn her into a stir fry, though…"

"Yeah, I imagine. Betraying the fae and almost exposing you all, you must have been real pissed," she offers.

"I wasn't upset because she blackmailed a family of rich snobs."

Kenzi feels pinned by his deep gaze that as usual see more of her than she's comfortable with. He bores his eyes into hers.

"It was killing me thinking that she'd hurt you."

_Why are you making things so hard, Hale?_

Kenzi feels completely disoriented; she's always been able to trust her instinct, to tell an innocent and a liar apart. This is her thing, this is how she survived in the streets and among the fae. But now, after all this twisted bullshit, she feels lost. And when it comes to Hale it's even worse. _Dang, why men are so complicated?_

Look at him: his smug smile, his Casanova attitude and his flirtatious jokes are all gone. All is left is a panicky guy trying to talk to a panicky girl.

It's getting odd, and hard. Goodbyes are not supposed to be so hard, they should be a painless clear-cut.

"Hey, you must be exhausted. Why don't we do lunch, tomorrow?" he proposes, his eyes are pleading for a second chance and Kenzi feels even more guilty and confused.

Finally Hale gets closer to say goodbye, wrapping her in a hug. It's exactly what she wished for back in that basement: his strong arms, his musky scent, his husky voice, this time whispering, "I'm so sorry, Kenzi."

Kenzi thinks she's in deep shit. It's going to be harder than she thought to leave all _this_. Her friends, Bo, Dyson, Trick and Hale -whatever Hale is to her. She's trying to gather the right parting words when they all slip away. She feels Hale arms tightening around her and pulling her up against him. Before she can realize what's happening, she feels Hale's lips on hers. A delicate, sweet, perfect kiss.

"That's what the kiss of a siren tastes like," she thinks as a shiver runs down her spine. Hale breaks the kiss and slightly grazes her cheek with his. He then levels his eyes to hers, searching for a sign of whether this is an acceptable move or an epic fuck up.

Kenzi's face is an unreadable mask. Surprise? Anger? Pleasure? Confusion? Hale frowns.

_Why are women so complicated_?

This is definitely a score against Delila spidery legs, Kenzi thinks. Now, how is she supposed to leave after a kiss like this? Hale looks at her. Confusion building on his face as the seconds pass and she doesn't say a word.

_Say something. Say something. Say something._

"Are you hungry?" she finally mutters with ill deceived nonchalance.

"What?"

"I'm dying for a hamburger. All I had in two days was donuts. I feel like I'm going to pass out if I don't get some real food…" she fades out, lamely.

Well, this is not the romantic conversation she envisioned.

"With sweet and sour sauce on the side?" Hale eventually gives her one of his smiles.

"And burritos!" she adds while they start walking down the street.

"Where the hell do you put all those calories, woman!?" Hale says, while putting an arm around her waist. "I wouldn't want to be the inside of your arteries," he jokes.

"You're just jealous because I have a fast metabolism."

"I am still upset that you didn't share your donut with me!" he objects while they walk slowly down the street, looking like a couple.

"It was too good to share." She gives him a wink,

"You were gorging it down like an ogre with an antelope steak." He keeps the bantering, he tickles her on her side.

Kenzi punches him and smiles back, laying her head on his arm. And both of them start giggling, enjoying the smell of the incoming spring in the air.

"How are you feeling?" Hale asks serious.

"I feel at home." She smiles deliciously while squeezing his hand.

_~FIN_~

_So, that's it. Thanks a lot to all of you who kept reading till the end and left me such lovely comments and reviews! _

_I hope you enjoyed it and liked the reading :)_


End file.
